


we're worlds apart (can you hear the beat of my heart)

by chambers_none



Category: IM5 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, WIP, what is this this was supposed to be like 500 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:21:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chambers_none/pseuds/chambers_none
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Harry Potter AU, because who doesn't love Harry Potter AUs? For the Hat Boutique. This was not beta'd or Britpicked (I still can't decide if they're Americans living in Britain or British, so), and if there's anything wrong with my Harry Potter trivia, shame on me! Point them out to me, if you will. I do not know anything about their actual families, and if you squint you'll see Fifth Harmony, so take this with a grain or three thousand of salt.</p>
    </blockquote>





	we're worlds apart (can you hear the beat of my heart)

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Potter AU, because who doesn't love Harry Potter AUs? For the Hat Boutique. This was not beta'd or Britpicked (I still can't decide if they're Americans living in Britain or British, so), and if there's anything wrong with my Harry Potter trivia, shame on me! Point them out to me, if you will. I do not know anything about their actual families, and if you squint you'll see Fifth Harmony, so take this with a grain or three thousand of salt.

It doesn't take long for them to be known as the troublemakers.

Sure, they're no Marauders, or George and Fred Weasley, but, hey. Only _they_ get followed around by Mrs Norris (especially when Filch gets the sneaking suspicion they're up to something, whose sixth sense is surprisingly accurate, most of the time) and Professor McGonagall's pseudo-angry/fond stare. (It's times like these, when there's a visible swallow, and a nearly vacant mask that looks at them almost wistfully, that Will feels horrible. Honestly. When their Transfiguration Professor, and Dalton's Head of House, does that- it feels like there's a vacuum in his stomach, like it's been particularly violently ripped out. Even Dalton can't look cheekily at her during those moments.)

Will knows of how much they remind her, and the few Professors they have that taught the famous Harry Potter, of the Potter-Weasley-Granger trio. Except, well, there are five of them, and. Sometimes he just wants to stop; stop causing trouble (well- abetting, anyway), stop giving his beloved teachers forlorn looks, stop disappointing his mother (and he knows he does, if her regular Howlers are any indication); but other times he wants them to be remembered, just like the Weasley duo, and the Marauder quad. There's five of them now, and he's not stupid to think that they're greater than the aforementioned troublemakers, or the Golden Trio- but he wants to be remembered, wants his _friends_ to be remembered. He wants to make a mark on their teachers (not like, physically, though, that'd be awful and just, no) and leave a legacy behind when he graduates Hogwarts. He knows only too easily how things can be forgotten, memories crumbling like sandcastles, knows how in time, everything will be swept away like dust regardless. Like his father being one of the Blitzkrieg team of Aurors that had come in during the very last months of The Great War, sweeping in to rid potentially dangerous Snatchers and newly-confident Death Eaters, and no one remembering them but their families, after a tragedy that resulted in their deaths being covered up. Even his mum knows nothing, although she was pregnant with him and grieving and having to support a three year-old; the Ministry has withheld the information. The Wizarding world at large know nothing, because as much as The Great War caused many people to acknowledge every sacrifice made, there's still an unease that settles in the marrow of their bones, that people don't want to be reminded of their losses.

Knows this, and in spite of it still, he wants to be remembered. He doesn't want to be ash, doesn't want to be lost in time.

He watches Dana give chase to Cole (there's not a chance, of course, what with Cole's broom being the Firebolt 4000, and the latter being a Seeker and all) and fall off the broom, laughing still. Only Cole and Will can properly fly and not land on their butts when using a broom; the rest are hilariously and almost impossibly hopeless. Will watches; he watches Gabe tinker about with something in his pewter cauldron, with Dalton peering curiously over his shoulder; he watches Cole laugh, nose wrinkling, as he shoves playfully at Dana, who nearly topples into the lake; he watches the other Hogwarts students mill about, generally embodying _friendship_ and _adolescence_ and _life_.

No, he thinks; he will not be forgotten.

 

-  
Will is eleven years old, and a Wizard.

He knows this of course: his Mum may be a Muggle and all, but their house has _enchantments_ and _magic spells_ and everything, little things that his Dad set up before he died. Like their clock that shows where each respective family member is, and the mirror that regularly chastises Alex's hair. It's part of the reason why they were never allowed to bring friends home.

Besides, Will's brother Alex is a wizard too, anyway, and a huge showoff. Even if they hadn't a magic house and their Mum didn't mention it in his vicinity and the Hogwarts letter didn't arrive for him, he would have known. Really. Alex can be such a prat sometimes, prancing around with his wand and leaving spellbooks all over the house, because Will can't do proper wand magic, yet.

(He can make things invisible, some of the time, for a short while; Alex doesn't know this because it's the reason he was late for school when he was 9 and Will 6 and his shoes were missing, and he received the most unfair detention ever, which made Will crack up at odd times, even till now.)

"What house do you think I'll be in?"

"I don't know, dummy, the Sorting Hat chooses, dunnit?"

Will tries not to pout openly.

He knows this of course, because like a certain unnamed irresponsible individual (Alex), he'd read all his school books and everything. He knows the _Hogwarts: A History_ cover-to-cover by heart, maybe, and has been practicing saying a few of the spells most likely to be taught on the first school day. (Not with his wand, of course, or he'd get in trouble.)

Alex wanders off after giving their mum a kiss on the cheek, to find his friends probably, and Will stares off into space. He's looked around, already, and there were no interesting friendship prospects that had caught his eye yet, so he stays by his mother and lets her fuss over him while he daydreams.

He's still scanning the platform for no reason, when his mother straightens up and picks off any remaining lint (impossible) that she might have missed in her scouring. It takes a beat longer to realize she's staring at him with a faraway look, and he knows immediately what she's thinking about. She catches him looking back at her, then tugs on the collar of his shirt, smiling sadly.

"I wonder how your.. your father would have looked like in Hogwarts robes. I never had a picture, and I never... I never can envision him running around with the other kids, you know?"

She laughs, a little fondly. "Well, actually, I can. I can. I just," she pats his cheek, then trails off.

The blaring horn signals it's time to go, the train is moving soon, and Will. Will gives his mum the fiercest hug he has ever given her, realizes this'll be the first time she'll be left all alone at home, no Will or Alex around to care for.

"Take care," he mumbles into her dress, throat constricting.

"Silly goose," she chuckles into his hair, " _you_ be careful. Don't lose your wand and get hexed, or burnt, or anything of that sort; make friends. You have fun, you know? These are going to be the best seven years of your life."

She looks back at him, inspecting his face carefully. She pulls Will to her one last time, and this time, her words are almost inaudible, and if he hadn't felt her lips ruffle his hair he would have thought he had imagined it.

"My little boy, all grown up."

 

-

 

Will wanders on the train, Alex keeping to his promise of "stick with Will" for exactly ten minutes, before running off to join his friends. He had asked Will if he wanted to join them, at least, but Will had declined.

"Best seven years of his life," he repeats to himself. "Make friends."

He draws out a breath, sighs, and marches resolutely to the first compartment on his right. Will knocks on the door, peeking in. Two girls, both blondes, chattering away loudly. Almost simultaneously, they whip their heads round to glare intensely at him, and Will nearly gets a whiplash trying to shuffle out. He's at that awkward pre-adoloscent stage where girls are both horrifying and interesting; as it is, he can't talk to normal, pleasant girls, let alone the Twin She-Demons. He scurries down the aisle, and knocks again on another door.

It takes two more tries before he finds someone willing to share and plausible to get along with. He peeks in to where a boy is sitting idly, staring out of the window. The train has been moving for- what, ten minutes? but already the scenery has blurred from the redbrown of bricks of houses to green, green landscapes. Will is mesmerised, almost forgetting why he's there- he's lives in Leeds, and there aren't exactly pastures growing there.

"Um," he hesitates, afraid of yet another rejection, "can I sit with you?"

The other boy-he doesn't look like a bumbling first year, maybe he's older, huh- turns around to regard him coolly, like he knew Will was there all along, although he had showed no signs of noticing. The boy is almost exotic looking, pretty in a way Will knows the girls back at his Muggle school would have giggled over. His skin is tan and eyes dark, assessing him almost, as Will stands there stock still.

At last, the boy shrugs like he couldn't care less, but Will feels so _grateful_ he nearly trips over his own feet as he makes his way to the seat. "Will," he nearly blurts out, rushed, by way of explanation and thank you all at once. "Thanks."

"No problem," the boy replies. He doesn't offer his name. That's all he says for nearly the next half hour, and Will twiddles his thumbs, unsure of what to do.

 

-

 

There's a sort of whine, a sound which Will later realizes is the squeak of the trolley wheels.

"Anything from the trolley, dear?" 

A kind-looking lady smiles down at him, and Will jumps up. He'd been getting antsy, the silence dead between him and the other boy: he wasn't Alex, with the need to talk loudly about something irrelevant every twenty minutes, but he wasn't too fond of silences, too.

His mum had given him a Galleon, and he nearly asks for a Mars Bar when he remembers he's in the _freaking wizarding world_ and they probably have wizard sweets. "Those?" He points, unsure, to a couple of candies.

The trolley lady smiles knowingly at him. "Muggle?" she asks, and he shakes his head.

"No, half. But my brother never brought home any wizard sweets," he trails off, then realizes that he should offer something to the boy, maybe.

"Do you want something?" And he's so painfully awkward- he just wants something, anything, from this silent, silent boy, other than the occasional fixed stare he figures is given as a result of boredom, or the _rat-a-tat-tat_ drumming beat of his fingers.

"No, thank you," the boy says.

Will looks away, disappointed, and collects his sweets. He looks at them curiously- there's a couple of Chocolate Frogs, whatever that is, and a packet of jellybeans. The jellybeans proclaim to have "every flavour", whatever that means, and Will is even more disappointed. Isn't this the _wizarding world_? Where was the magic, the oddities?

Just as he's put one jellybean into his mouth, the boy warns him, "Careful". Will halts, the jellybean on his tongue, and doesn't swallow, only letting the taste linger and his palette adjust. That's. That's weird. What flavour was this?

Something must show on his face, because the boy almost smirks. "When they mean every flavour, they really do mean every flavour." He adds after a beat, "I'm Gabe. Hope you didn't get anything too nasty."

Will startles, but eats his jellybean carefully, anyway. It doesn't taste horrible, just new. "I- I don't know what flavour that was."

Gabe shrugs. "It was yellow, so I'm thinking Butterbeer. Does it taste okay?"

Will nods, it _had_ had been pleasant. "Yep. Butterbeer. Sorry, I just realized you've probably been raised in a Muggle home."

"Yeah. My dad's dead."

Will doesn't know why he says that, but Gabe raises an eyebrow, and he doesn't blame him. It's such a weird thing to say, and it's certainly never a topic he'd broach with his Muggle friends.

"The Great War?" And Will nods.

Gabe nods mutely. "Mine too."

 

_

Maybe ten, twenty minutes later, Gabe and Will meet Cole and Dalton.

They're sitting in companionable silence now, when they hear a commotion outside. Gabe deigns to acknowledge it, instead turning to a sandwich he had pulled out of his backpack. Will, however, is infinitely more nosy, and just as he's decided to go outside to see what the noise is, two boys pop up outside their door.

"Hullo!" one of them, the blonde one, waves rather cheerfully.

"I'm Cole, and he's Dalton," the other boy barrels on, despite neither Will nor Gabe not responding. He slings his arm round the blond- Dalton- and Will notices they're already wearing Hogwarts robes. "We're best friends."

He announces the last line triumphantly, and Will wonders why that very obvious statement contained such enthusiasm. "Oh, okay," he says, to appease the boys.

"What are your names then?"

Will glances to Gabe, who sets down his sandwich and leans back in his seat. "I'm Gabriel. Call me Gabe."

There's a pause and Will realizes Gabe's left the introductions up to him. "Will," he says hurriedly, "Will Jay."

"So, Will, Will Jay, are you a halfie or Muggleborn then?" Dalton rounds to Gabe, who looks like he's about to say something. "And you, I know you, no need to tell us. You're Gabriel Morales, aren't you? I told Cole you were one of the Morales, I said so and he didn't believe it."

When Will doesn't reply, too busy looking curiously at Gabe, Cole nudges Dalton's side. "Go on, Dal, do him. Guess-"

Dalton rolls his eyes, holds up a hand to shut up his friend. He stares intently at Will for so long Will feels uncomfortable, before deciding, "Half-blood. Muggle mother."

Will gapes. "How did you know that?"

Dalton preens, looking impossibly smug. He runs his nail down the sleeve of Cole's robe, and Will is struck with how ridiculous he must look, this eleven year old boy pretending to be sophisticated. "It's a talent," Dalton boasts proudly.

Will lets himself gape a little more- sure, the talent is kind of useless, but it's freaking _awesome_ \- while Cole plonks himself beside Will and stretches out like a contented cat. Will swears he heard purring.

Then he gives Gabe a half-glance, and Dalton notices. Cole too, and he sits up, half-nodding in understanding. "Ah, right, your mum was Muggle. She wouldn't have known." By some shared understanding, or instinct, whatever, they've accepted Will's dad as out of the picture and hence his Muggle-ness about wizardy things.

When Dalton opens his mouth, to launch into probably a long-winded story on the Morales, this time though, Gabe stops him, the first time he contributes to their interaction besides the name-exchanging bit.

Will sees Gabe falter, a little, hand swaying. "I- I'm Pureblood, is all," he shrugs, and that's one of the few times Will sees Gabriel's cool facade crack.

Cole snorts beside him, even as Will accepts his explanation. It doesn't feel like much of an explanation- he'd heard about Purebloods, yeah, but what was the big deal? Dalton seems to read his mind, but this time turns to Gabe, awe etched into his face as he narrates, almost like he's remembering the lines for his oral report.

"Just a Pureblood is _all_? _Just_? Will, Gabe's family were on friendly terms with most of the inner circle of Death Eaters, because he's related to the Zabinis- they had a kid who was some Slytherin in Harry Potter's year. But even though they were like, _related_ and Purebloods, they refused to help Voldemort- Mister Morales was such an excellent diplomat that Voldemort actually let it be. _Voldemort_. Voldemort himself, who kills babies for like, _fun_ , allowed the Morales to live even though they were expected to help because of their associations. Will, this guy not only refused freaking _Voldemort_ , he would help Harry Potter- not that Harry Potter knew it- by subtly leading Death Eaters off his trail. No one even realized until late after the war, when Lucius Malfoy figured it out and revealed it to the Ministry- it was supposed to spare him from Azkaban, or something, prove he wasn't entirely evil. Didn't work, of course, but."

When Dalton finishes, his eyes look almost alight in wonder. Gabe blushes fiercely, ducking his head. "I did nothing," he mumbles, "was just a baby then."

This doesn't deter Dalton though, who sits down carefully beside Gabe like he's a fragile artefact. Gabe swats absentmindedly at the blond, then stares determinedly out of the window. Cole and Dalton both seem to take that as an invitation that they're all buddies now, and cheerily bosses them to change into their robes, because they'll reach Hogwarts soon, hurry.

 

-

 

Gabe turns out to be a second-year Ravenclaw, and he waves at the three of them almost wistfully as he goes off into another direction. 

"Firs' yers! Firs' yers over here!"

And holy _shite_ , Will may not know about the more hidden stories of The Great War, but that's _Rubeus Hagrid_. He stares in amazement- _Rubeus freaking Hagrid_ is here- when a group of five girls march up to them. They're all extremely pretty, and a quick glance at his friends shows that they think so too.

"Can Dinah sit with you lot? There are five of us and three of you, and the boats are going in fours."

The girls look expectantly at Cole, but it's Will that nods clumsily, feeling even more awkward and out of place.

But then a girl steps forward- she must be Dinah- and beams brilliantly at them, her smile shy and grateful all at once. She's gorgeous, with lush dark hair and curves, and Will doesn't think he'll properly fancy her or anything, but. He thinks his heart skips a beat.

"Thank you," she murmurs to them, then steps away to give her friends one last hug. There's an awkward moment where the four of them wait for the boat and Dalton outright _gapes_ at her, Will listing to the side awkwardly. Then the four of them climb into the little boat that doesn't look like it could hold them but does, and they watch the lights of the Hogwarts castle the entire way through.

 

-

 

The Sorting is maybe one of the scariest tests that Will had ever sat for.

Professor McGonagall had greeted them at the entrance of the Great Hall, given them the customary explanation about the Sorting process. It all feels surreal; he had read it in Hogwarts: A History, yeah, but this is _actually happening to him_. He's a wizard and he's gonna put on an old hat which will tell him what House he belongs to, and. 

This is so... weird.

Alex is a Gryffindor, and while Will thinks it'll be cool to be in Harry Potter's House and everything, he doesn't really feel anything pulling him towards the mob of red-gold -clad people. He doesn't think he's a Slytherin, and that's not because of House discrimination; he just doesn't think he'll fit there, is all. And green looks hideous on him. Asian complexion and all that.

Maybe Hufflepuff, then. They seem like nice people, this merry band of sunshine-coloured students. He thinks Ravenclaw is cool, but they seem rather aggressive, much like most Slytherins. He doesn't get to dwell too much, though, because it's his turn so.

"Beheldorf, Will Jay," Professor McGonagall reads, and his heart is beating like a jackrabbit in his chest, it feels like it'll fall out any moment.

There's a long silence, and Will panics, not knowing what to think or to not think, trying (unsuccessfully) to calm his steady heart.

"RAVENCLAW!" The hat booms.

Will doesn't know what happened; it was all in a daze of too-fast and not-quite-slow-enough. He walks dazedly to the cheering blue table, and sits. "Um, hi," he says to the person beside him, and it's not really him speaking the words, but it still acknowledges somewhere in his brain that he's sat beside Gabriel.

"Gabe!" 

Gabe grins at him, a first, then claps him on his back. "Welcome to Ravenclaw," he greets, then grins again. "Knew you had it in you. That's one of the fastest Sortings we've had in a year."

Will smiles belatedly back, as Gabriel and the Prefect try to talk to him, welcome him.

It's true. He is. He is a wizard.

 

-

 

The two blonde girls that had glared at him when he first boarded the train looking for somewhere to sit turn out to be sisters- twins, actually- sorted into Slytherin. Dinah, the pretty girl him and Cole and Dalton had shared a boat with, is welcomed into Hufflepuff. Then it's Cole's turn, and he can just about make out a restless Dalton in the awaiting line.

"Pendery, Cole."

Will watches, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves, Gabe beside him tapping the edge of the table relentlessly, as Cole climbs up onto the stool. There's a silence, and then-

"SLYTHERIN!" 

Will watches, stunned, as Cole clambers off and walks slowly to the Slytherin table. There's a suprised expression on his face, and even Will didn't think Cole had had it in him (a little voice sings _house discrimination!_ ). After a few steps though, Cole schools his face into a neutral mask, a swagger in his step. Will watches him reach the table and nod imperiously to the other sorted First Years and a few seniors. 

It's true then- Will can definitely see him become more _Slytherin_ , somehow; the boy on the train today has been quickly transformed into someone who knows he has the power to do anything. It's kind of amazing, really. Will wishes he could do that, but he's not really one to keep up with a facade- if it was a facade.

He cranes his neck to see Dalton's reaction- then frowns. Dalton's face is like a blaringly loud neon sign, all his feelings obvious and displayed for the world to see. Confusion mars his face, along with other feelings- Will can see a hint of resentment in his shuttered eyes, the anger in the set of his brows. Betrayal. Regret. Sadness. Almost immediately he feels depressed, suckerpunched. There's something wrong here- he's only known them for an hour at most, maybe, but Dalton and Cole are best friends. The _best_. This can't happen, not over some stupid _Sorting_.

A few more people go up, but Will keeps his gaze fixed on Dalton, occasionally checking up on Cole. Cole's face is calm and cool, occasionally deigning to speak to a few other Slytherins. Only Dalton's name being called snatches him out of his reverie.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Sorting Hat bellows this time.

Will watches Dalton climb off the stool unsteadily, grinning at his new Housemates. He shoots Will and Gabe a thumbs up, but pointedly doesn't look at the Slytherin table. Will's stomach clenches.

He'll sort this out, later. For now he's only too happy to dig in to the delicious foodstuffs and make small talk with other Ravenclaws, pretend everything is fine.

 

-

 

Will is grateful for everything he has really: his friends, his little odd family of mum and Alex, being at Hogwarts, _everything_. Especially his friends, who for some reason, stick by him, despite the fact that he's not cool, or their brand of funny, or any generic reason people have friends for.

Dana himself arrived two years later; this overenthusiastic little ball of sunshine. A kind of pesky ball of sunshine, yeah, but sunshine nevertheless. It was fitting that his house colours were the colour of sunshine too, and sometimes Will's favourite thing to do is to sit side-by-side with his friends and watch the light glint off their multi-coloured ties; blue, yellow, blue, red green.


End file.
